Streams beam up from filigreed palm canopy
in masterless congruity.
A pinprick hum.
Where must it go? What must it be?
Outbreath, with slow grassy dew, lie steady.
His eyes be pulled from earth
onto an infinitesimal obelisk he cannot see.
Alas, might it be —
or aether embrightened slightly;
or mind think — perchance
— something else entirely.
About the Author
Bharat Raj Nair’s poetry and fiction have been published by The Bangalore Review, the Café Shapiro Anthology, and the Michigan Daily. His piece, Manasil, was a finalist for the Hopwood Awards, the oldest, most prestigious literary award at the University of Michigan. He lives in Thiruvananthapuram, India.